


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by trixareforeveryone



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dream AU, F/M, Gothic romance style, Jon has weird creepy dreams, Jon’s storyline and POV, R Plus L Equals J, Season 5 thru 7 AU, along with lots of horror, everything else is the same though, idk how else to describe it, so supernatural elements will be used
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixareforeveryone/pseuds/trixareforeveryone
Summary: While stepping into the role of Lord Commander, Jon begins to have strange dreams of a cloaked woman. No matter how hard he tries to ignore them, the dreams won’t stop and begin to haunt his waking thoughts. And with the threat of Winter and White Walkers, he really doesn’t need any type of distraction.But when did things ever go the way he’d like?





	1. She Comes

**Author's Note:**

> So, I love dream fics and let’s be honest, who doesn’t? Anywho, I got hit with a bolt of inspiration that just kept growing and growing until I simply couldn’t ignore it.
> 
> This is honestly just going to be centered around the dreams. The events of the story as a whole will be the same. So I’m not really going to go into detail about what he does during the day time unless it’s in correlation to his dream. There will be time hops. It’s not always a day to day timeline. But I’ll let you know when it is in the ch notes. Also, like I tagged, this is all about Jon. We will not be going to Essos. We will not be seeing any Dany POV. So...there ya go.
> 
> Neither the chapters nor the story will be anywhere near as long as OGAD, but I think it’ll still be a fun read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is elected Lord Commander.
> 
> @game-of-snows you are manna from heaven.

After everything that had happened that day, Jon wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed.

He couldn’t believe that Stannis had offered him legitimacy and the lordship of Winterfell. Part of him had desperately wanted to accept, the part that had yearned to be a true Stark since he was old enough to understand what being a Snow meant. But a much larger part of him knew that it wasn’t right. He wasn’t a Stark and Stannis could call himself a king all he wanted, but he wasn’t on the Iron throne. He had no authority to give a bastard such a title. Besides, none of the Northern lords would have followed Stannis even if Jon had accepted the offer. He knew the stern man was not going to like hearing the refusal, but Jon couldn’t do anything about that. 

Because it the offer was moot anyway since he was now the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He didn’t know whether or not he was going to strangle Sam for getting him into this. Jon knew there were some who weren’t happy about his new position. He had seen the baleful look Ser Alliser had given him after it was done and he knew that the man was not going to take any order he was given without some sort of argument.

Just the thought made Jon groan in frustration as he opened the door to his chambers, letting Ghost inside before shutting it. How was he supposed to lead these men? He wanted to focus on the dead, not the politics he knew were to come with being Lord Commander.

No. He’d deal with it all tomorrow. Right now, the nothingness of sleep sounded much better than dealing with the headache that was growing at his temples.

Getting out of his cloak and layers, he stoked the fire and got ready for bed. Once finished with his nightly routine, he got under the furs and let sleep take him.

He was in an unfamiliar place.

The ground was a mixture of white and brown, reminding Jon of when the snows would begin to melt and mud would mix in with it. What few trees he could see were bare, their trunks smooth and shiny.

Though the black sky was clear, there wasn’t a star in sight. The only reason Jon knew it was clear was because of the full moon above him. But it wasn’t a regular moon like he was used to seeing. For one thing, it was much, much larger. Another was that it was blood red, causing the world to be cast in its strange colored light.

Jon decided he needed to move; find out where he was and how to get back home. But when he took his first step, the ground beneath him made a loud crunching sound. Looking down, he realized what had caused it.

He was standing on hundreds of bones.

He tried to step where there weren’t any, but the red light of the moon glowed brighter and to Jon’s dismay, he saw that the entire forest floor was made up of them.

A cold breeze blew past Jon then and it sounded like there were voices. Barely discernible, but they were there nonetheless. He looked around but he was completely alone. Yet with each new breeze, more and more whispers gathered around him.

And that was what had Jon deciding to get out of here. Pushing his uneasiness of having to walk on bones aside, he began to make his way towards a direction he hoped would get him away from this place. But the whispers kept following him, growing louder with each step he took. Soon, he felt as if the bodiless voices were right at his ears, their cold breaths causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end.

_Oh look, a young wolf who’s wandered off from his pack._

_Is he a wolf though?_

_He yearns to be one._

The voices began to laugh mockingly at him.

_Something else stirs in his blood. Something terrifying._

That caught Jon’s attention as he had no idea what that could mean. But he decided not to think on it, especially when the other voices started up again.

There was a loud crash behind him just then and everything went utterly silent. Yet when he turned, there was nothing there. Still, the voices began to cry out.

_She comes._

_She will crush her enemies into the dust._

_No, she will save us all._

_There will be nowhere to hide from her._

_Her armies will bathe in our blood._

Jon began running, trying to get away from the voices and whatever was coming for him. But they just laughed and carried on taunting him.

_Oh, see how the poor wolf runs?_

_Do not fear her._

_You cannot escape her, son of ice and snow._

_It is too late._

_She has seen you, boy. Look! She watches you ever so closely._

Then they all began to wail until going completely silent. At that, Jon’s heart picked up speed as fear unlike any other gripped him so tightly he could barely breathe. He glanced over his shoulder and when he saw nothing on the ground, his gaze continued up until he was looking at the blood red moon.

Except it was no longer a moon. It was a great eye. The slit like pupil was looking right at him. It blinked, leaving the world in total darkness for a moment, and when it opened again, there were now two of them.

Jon turned and ran even faster. He could feel the thing’s hot breath burning through his clothes. Chancing one more look over his shoulder, he saw that those great eyes were right behind him. Even though the blackness surrounding the creature hid what it actually was from him, he knew it was bigger and more terrifying than anything he’d ever seen. And he knew he couldn’t escape it.

Eyes flying open, Jon bolted upright. With his heart pounding and his breaths coming in hard gasps, he wildly looked around for the creature. But he quickly realized he was safe in his bed in Castle Black. Ghost was next to him, staring silently.

Jon let out a shaky sigh of relief and pushed his sweat damp hair away from his face. By the gods, that was the worst dream he’d ever had. He’d also never had a dream feel so real. What had it even been about? And who was _she_? His thoughts raced as he tried to put it all together. Needing to steady himself, he buried his hands in Ghost’s thick coat and carefully breathed in and out. Closing his eyes, he let the direwolf’s natural scent of pine and wolf musk fill his senses and after awhile, he could finally feel his heart slow.

So much for hoping that sleep would allow him to escape.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and quickly dressed. Once he strapped on Longclaw, he opened the door and followed Ghost out into the frigid early morning. 

As he walked, Jon thought back to the dream. Even though he didn’t understand any of it, he had a feeling deep in his gut that something _was_ coming. Something that would change everything  

And he needed to prepare for whatever it… or _she_ was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet that wasn’t the kind of dream you were expecting, was it? (Evil cackles)


	2. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is after 5x03.

The conversation with Stannis had gone the way Jon figured it would.

No matter how much he wanted to go help his sister, he couldn’t. And that was the harsh truth. His place was at the Wall. He would live and die in this frozen, forgotten land here at the edge of the world.

So Jon had told him as much as he could on the best ways to gain the loyalties of the Northern houses as well as what he knew of Winterfell’s defenses. And thankfully, the man begrudgingly admired Jon’s dedication to his role and didn’t take the refusal personally.

What still made his head reel was what had happened with the red priestess. While Jon wasn’t too surprised that she had tried to seduce him into giving her what she wanted, her parting words chilled him to the bone.

Too tired to properly get ready for bed, Jon just pulled his boots off and removed all his layers until he was in a thick under shirt and pants. Then he fell into bed, asleep the moment his eyes closed.

He stood in a forest that was similar to the wolfs wood during winter. Snow covered the ground and fell lightly around him. All of the trees were bone white and bare. Their branches, adorned with a layer of snow, reached out like skeletal fingers, ready to catch the falling flakes. The sky was filled with white puffy clouds that gave no indication as to the time of day it was.

Jon looked for anything that would help him figure out where he was and where to go, but the forest was all the same. So he began walking aimlessly, keeping his eye out for any landmark that could help steer him. For awhile, the only sound was the soft crunching of the snow beneath his boots.

Until a soft tinkling laugh filled the air around him.

It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Still, Jon quickly spun around in a circle to try and find where it was coming from or at least who was making it. That was when he caught a flash of red from what looked like the end of a cloak out of the corner of his eye. But when his head snapped towards it, he found that no one was there.

Jon’s feet started moving on their own accord towards the tree he saw it go behind. As he approached though, he saw the red cloak over by a tree to his right that was impossible to get to without being seen. All the while, that laugh echoed through the lifeless forest again. So, he followed it there. But not five steps later, he saw the cloaked figure disappear behind another tree.

Each and every time he tried to get closer, the person would reappear somewhere completely different. He’d tried following the soft feminine laughter, but it was always all around him and he’d be unable to pinpoint where they could be. At one point, he saw a small, delicate hand touch the bark of one of the trees and it somehow made him certain he was following a woman.

Jon had no idea _why_ he felt such an insistent need to catch up to the hooded woman, but he did. The thought of her leaving him behind made his stomach clench in anxiety and his chest hurt. No matter how hard he tried though, he could never get close enough to touch her. But part of him knew she wanted him to reach her as much as he did. Because every time he thought of stopping, she’d appear closer to him, as if spurring him on to not give up the chase.

So, on and on it went.

After what felt like days, Jon finally gave up and stopped, closing his eyes in frustration. He could feel the deep burn that had set in the muscles of his legs and his feet badly ached. However, as soon as he shut his eyes, the laughter came from right behind him.

His heart in his throat, Jon drew the sword at his belt as he whirled around.

About five horse lengths away from him stood the woman. Even with the cloak on, he could see the roundness of her hips flaring out from her narrow waist. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he was dreaming of the red priestess of Stannis but cast it aside as quickly as he thought it. This woman was smaller than the Lady Melisandre, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder.

Being the only thing of color in this white world, the red of her cloak seemed even brighter than it should have been. So much so that it almost hurt to look at it. Her hood kept her face completely in shadow and no matter how hard he tried to see her features, he couldn’t. As a whole, the sight set him on edge and he braced his feet apart as though preparing for her to attack him.

“Who are you?” Jon finally managed to ask.

She remained perfectly silent and still until she cocked her head ever so slightly to the side as if she were sizing him up. The predatory action made his heart want to leap out of his chest before he forced himself to calm down.

“Who are you?” he demanded now as he tried to ignore the growing fear inching up his spine.

The woman lowered her head in a way that made Jon think she was looking down her nose at him. And even though he still couldn’t see her face, he somehow _knew_ she was smirking. When she took a step towards him, steam began to rise from under her foot.

“ _Jon Snow_ ,” she whispered, her bell like voice echoing like she’d spoken down a well.

Immediately, his skin erupted with goose flesh at how she said his name. The way she called out to him almost sounded like she’d always known who he was and yet was equally surprised to realize it was actually him. He had to lock his muscles in order to keep from moving. Whether that moving entailed falling to his knees or going to her, he wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t risk doing either; couldn’t give in and show weakness in front of her and couldn’t get any closer to her.

“ _Wake up,”_ she whispered again with that same echoing voice just as he was hit by a strong blast of scalding hot air.

With a sharp gasp, Jon’s eyes snapped open. His heart was pounding in chest and he could feel the sweat making his clothes stick to him. He stared up at the ceiling of his chambers as he waited for his heart to return to normal. Raising his hands to his face, he was surprised to find that the skin of his cheeks felt like he’d sat with his face inches from a fire for far too long. 

He could still hear her voice in his head and he tried to think of whose voice it was. Because surely it must belong to someone he once knew. There was simply no way he could make that up.

Right?

Jon rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before letting his arms drop heavily with a frustrated groan. He was used to having strange dreams, like the one he’d told Sam about the Stark crypts. But these last two had felt… different, more tangible.

Thinking back to the first dream, he recalled how the bodiless voices had told him _she_ was coming. Was the hooded woman he just dreamt of the one they were referring to?

He made a face at that thought. Regardless of how strange those dreams seemed, they were still dreams, _his_ dreams. They meant nothing.

That’s what Jon kept telling himself as he threw the furs off of him and got dressed. He repeated it over and over even as the heat on his face lingered far longer than it should have.

Maybe if he told himself enough times, he’d believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m planning on adding stuff during the day now that Dany has made her appearance. So, the chapters will hopefully start to be a little longer.


	3. Do you see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This dream happens right before “Kill the Boy”

That night, he was in a garden.

Although perhaps “garden” wasn’t the right word as it was much bigger than the gardens at Winterfell and the Wall.

Jon began walking down the dirt path in the middle and as he did, he noticed how one side was filled with lush, blooming plants while the other side was just a field of dried out rye.

Following the path as it turned, Jon’s steps faltered when he saw that red cloak up ahead. She was knelt in front of the rye and was gently tending to it.

Finding it strange that the woman was completely ignoring the plants that were ripe with a variety of exotic looking fruits and vegetables and letting it die in favor of the more basic field of rye instead of tending to both sides equally, Jon went to see if there was actually something wrong with the ripe plants. Because the longer she tended to the unhealthy rye, the more the fruits and vegetables behind her withered.

But as he looked, Jon realized that there wasn’t something quite right about the plants. And what wasn’t right was that they were _moving._ Not swaying in the wind but as if the entire plants were made up of squirming maggots. They were also making a strange noise and he was quite certain plants did not make _noise_.

He bent down to take a closer look and what he saw made his stomach drop. Because these plants weren’t made of maggots or worms.

They were made of _people_.

The movement he noticed was their naked bodies writhing against each other and the noise was a mixture of them hissing and screaming.

Horrified, Jon quickly backed up and turned to call out to the woman. Whether to warn her that her plants weren’t actually plants or to demand what was going on, he wasn’t sure.

His voice got caught in his throat though when he saw the flash of the knife in her hand.

He stared as she bent down towards one of the previously healthy plants and grab hold of it with one hand while the other cut through its base. Blood poured vigorously from the part she was holding, but the woman seemed completely unconcerned with this as she turned back to the side she’d been taking care.

Holding it out, she let the blood drain over the rye in front of her until the last drop fell. Then she dropped the dried out husk and crushed it beneath her foot.

It was only then that she turned towards Jon who was staring at her in horror. Ignoring his expression, she calmly walked up to him. Once in front of him, she turned her head to the rye.

“ _Look,”_ she commanded.

So he did. And what he saw shocked him.

It wasn’t a garden like Jon had originally thought. It was a vast field. And it no longer contained just rye. There were crops and plants of all sorts growing right before his eyes and in much larger quantities than the one on other side.

The woman walked towards the new field and when she was close enough, Jon watched as the plants began to lean towards her, cries of what he could only describe as sounds of rejoice coming from them. Holding her hands out to the sides, she brushed her hands against them all as she continued walking past to head deeper into the field until she disappeared completely.

Jon made to follow but as soon as he took a step, everything shifted and he was suddenly standing on top of the Wall. But on each side of it, instead of land, there were two gaping abysses. The cloaked women stood at the very edge, looking out towards where Jon guessed was the land beyond the Wall.

“ _Do you see?_ ” She asked him, the echo in her whispered voice even more prominent here on the Wall.

“See what?” He asked in confusion.  

Looking down into the abyss, she whispered, “ _they are dying_.”

Suddenly, light flared at the bottom, illuminating the thousands of bodies clamoring up the Wall. Or at least trying to. Where it was silent save for the wind a moment ago, screams filled with fear and despair now reached his ears and the sound cut him to the core.

Jon began to shake his head in fervent disagreement. “No. No, I’m going to save them.”

Instead of answering, the woman simply lifted her head to stare out at the horizon.

When Jon followed her gaze, he saw a dark cloud slowly approaching them, covering everything in its path.

Shouts could suddenly be heard on the other side of the Wall and he turned to see all his brothers guarding the entryway that would allow the wildlings to pass. But he realized they weren’t his brothers. They were the bones of men wearing all black.

“ _Which will you choose?”_

Turning back to the wildlings, Jon saw that the cloud was now covering those in the far back and the screams stopped immediately. His heart was galloping in his chest as he tried to figure out what she meant. Did he choose to help the all of the wildlings or did he stay true to his original vows as a brother of the Night’s Watch? As he tried to come to a decision, he felt time slipping through his fingers like water.

Facing the cloaked woman, he made his decision and said, “I choose _life_.”

She stared at Jon a moment before looking over her shoulder. He followed her gaze and saw a flash of something large and shining like newly polished swords. But the falling snow hid it before he could figure out what it was. When she turned back to him, she tilted her head in acceptance. “ _So be it.”_

Just as he was about to ask her what she meant, the woman stepped over the edge. Jon cried out and watched with despair as she fell towards the earth, her red cloak flying all around her. He didn’t tear his eyes away from her descending figure until the great cloud swallowed her whole. His anguish was short lived though and replaced with shock because as Jon stared, a bright orange light suddenly burst through the cloud, so blinding that Jon had to shield his eyes from it.

He opened them to find himself back in his quarters and feeling fully awake. He laid in his bed as he thought over the dreams. He had no idea what the one with the human plants meant, but he had a feeling it was the same message as with the one of the Wall. Remembering the screams of the people trying to get away from the cloud, Jon threw the furs off of him and got out of bed.

He’d been thinking about the Free Folk and their fate for some time. And he still had that niggling feeling of time running out that he’d felt in the dream.

He needed to speak with Maester Aemon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a comparison of Dany saving the slaves and Jon saving the wildlings. 
> 
> Next chapter Jon will talk to Aemon and another dream. 
> 
> Now that Dany’s purpose in these dreams has started to be established, I’m going to be able to make the chapters longer with his waking moments and thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be alternating between this and OGAD. So don’t worry on that front. 
> 
> Comments are the life blood that sustains me and kudos are like a taste of the gods’ ambrosia. So please leave me some. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @trixareforeveryoneaq


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